


Peace Treaties, Macchiatos, and Chocolate Cake

by Onlymystory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onlymystory/pseuds/Onlymystory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tired of the fighting and their respective family histories impacting their lives, Derek and Allison agree to a treaty. They end up agreeing to more than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I signed up for a rare pair big bang and then life happened. This is me finally following through on a story I really wanted to write and wasn't willing to give up on.

Allison sips her marble macchiato and sits at a back corner table in Starbucks while she waits for Derek. She didn’t tell anyone where she was going--the pack coffee shop is a local place owned by a friend of the Stilinskis--so she knows whatever Derek wants to say is private. Not that she has any idea what he could possibly want.

They barely escaped the combined insanity of the alpha pack and the darach. Her dad is still healing from a broken leg, the Sheriff is fighting his bedrest, Isaac keeps hovering between her and Scott, like he can’t decide which one he wants to take a chance with. She needs to talk to Scott and Isaac eventually and encourage them towards each other. Her feelings don’t fit with either boy anymore. Speaking of, she should probably talk to Scott period.

Lydia and Stiles are buried in research about her banshee abilities. They’re acting differently around each other now, like they’ve both seen a different side of the other and aren’t sure where to go next. She’s familiar with the feeling.

Stiles and Cora seem to be bonding as well, while Lydia hasn’t actually given up contact with Aiden or Ethan, both of whom remained in town. Peter is doing whatever the hell he does and she should probably keep an eye on him.

Allison isn’t sure what her purpose is these days. She ends up in the woods shooting cheap arrows at random targets most of the time.

The sound of a loud thunk startles her from her thoughts. Allison looks up to see Derek looming over her, a large, nondescript binder now sitting in front of her. “What is this?”

“A treaty.”

Allison flips open the binder. The names Hale and Argent instantly catch her eye and she closes it quickly. “Go get yourself a drink, then you can come back and explain.”

She refuses to touch it while Derek is gone, wanting an explanation before she reads further. She prefers to know why someone gives her something before she determines her own uses of the material. She’s learned the hard way that most people have their own selfish motivations.

The call of Derek’s caramel macchiato mildly peaks her interest, causing her to comment “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a fancy drink sort of person” when he returns.

Derek replies “I like the bitter and sweet combination in a macchiato”, and Allison adjusts her previous opinion of him. She orders hers for the same reason. “What is this?” she asks again, tapping a short but well manicured nail on the top of the binder.

“Cora told me about a safe deposit box of our grandparents’ before she left again,” he answers. They’re both speaking quietly, just in case someone unknown tries eavesdropping. “This was inside.”

“A treaty. Between our families?” Allison wants to understand, she really does, but nothing in either of their histories suggests any sort of treaty between Hale and Argent. “How is that possible? With Gerard and Kate and even my own parents?”

Derek looks weary, like he’s not overly thrilled about this development, but she knows he’s been spending time with Stiles and listening to the teen’s suggestions, and she suspects that while Stiles may not know about this yet, her seeing it is a direct product of his influence. “I hate your family, Allison. That’s not much of a shock. And to be honest when I first saw this, I wanted to shove it back in that box and pretend I never saw it.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because this isn’t working. The tentative truce we have barely holds together on a good day, let alone when we have problems. I read through the treaty and it predates Gerard. It looks like his parents created it with my grandparents, but it was broken with him.”

“Did something happen?”

Derek shakes his head. “I can’t find anything. I think...” he hesitates and Allison sips at her drink and tries not to express her impatience. “I think some people are born evil and insane and some are made that way through circumstance or influence.”

“And my family is the former?” Her tone is bitter but resigned. It’s not the furthest leap to reach that conclusion.

“I think Gerard is the former. I think his children are the latter.” It’s quite the admission from Derek, to say that there might have been a chance for Kate to be someone different, someone better. He takes it a step further. “Peter is the former too.” Derek drinks about half of his macchiato, seeming to need a minute again, and Allison opens the binder again, skimming over the first few pages.

“It’s very detailed.” She points to a section on the third page in French. “This is the Code that my father taught me. But there’s a great deal more to it that I never learned.”

“I learned Russian,” offers Derek. “I recognized the Code part but nothing else. Can you translate?”

She nods and focuses again. “Well, first, I should note that I’ve never quite understood the words my dad taught me anyway. ‘Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent’ or ‘we hunt those who hunt us’, which I’ve never gotten. You don’t hunt us anyway.”

Derek interrupts. “We did. Or well, the original French werewolf line. I’m sure you know some of the stories, but those werewolves specifically hunted Argents.”

“They were Hales?”

“No. The Hales are a Welsh family, with some strains from Ireland. I don’t think our histories mixed until the Norman conquest when those two warring families came to England and the Hales mixed with other werewolves.”

Allison resolves to ask Derek more about her history later, but focuses on the matter at hand. “Hmm. Okay so the full text says:

“Nous chassons ceux qui nous chasser. Nous ne chassons pas, ni nuire à l'innocent, humain ou animal. Car nous savons que la facilité avec laquelle le chasseur tombe à devenir la proie et nous ne sommes pas encore d'un esprit avec l'animal.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, in a clear indication that he expects a translation.

Allison huffs. “I was getting to that. It says;

“We hunt those who hunt us. We do not hunt nor harm the innocent, human or beast. For we know the ease with which the hunter falls to become the hunted and we are not yet of one mind with the animal.”

“But then there’s an addendum to it, from the creators of this specific treaty, that details that the mind of a beast, of an abomination, lurks in human and animal alike, and that constant vigilance and education is required by both sides.”

Derek pulls the binder over to his side and rereads the section she points out. “So our great grandparents seemed to recognize that werewolves aren’t automatically bad guys.”

“And that hunters aren’t necessarily noble.” Allison tries another drink--it’s cold--and she pushes it away in distaste. “I’ll look over the treaty and then I guess you want me to bring it to my dad to renegotiate.”

“No.” Derek’s voice is harsher than she expected, and she looks up in surprise. “I want to negotiate the treaty with you, not your father.”

“But if you want a treaty with the Argents...” her voice trails away, signifying her confusion.

“The women are leaders are they not?”

“Yes.”

“Your family is matriarchal in nature is it not?”

“Yes, but.”

“And you are the next Argent woman to take charge of the family are you not?”

Allison mildly glares at him. She’s in this position because of...no, that’s not fair. She’s the Argent matriarch because her family followed outdated prejudices. Because her mother broke the code and tried to kill not only an innocent but also a child and suffered the consequences. Because they were too weak and hateful to consider that she could try living with the bite and still take her life later with wolfsbane if it truly came to that. She’s in this position because her grandfather was psychotic and trained his daughter to be like them, setting a horrible cycle of revenge in motion.

But he didn’t have to bring it up quite like that. “Yes, I am.”

“So, I want to make a Hale and Argent treaty with the woman who is supposed to be the leader of the Argent family, not one of the men who has taken control in the interim.” Derek’s voice is steady, and his gaze shows nothing but faith that she can do this. It’s a surprise, and encouraging to say the least.

Allison likes this faith in her. Isaac is dependent on her in his way and Scott in another. Her father insists on no secrets, then keeps her in the dark. And she knows it’s to keep her safe, but if nothing else, Derek is a walking example of what happens when you allow a person to remain in their own naivete.

It’s incredibly refreshing that he’s not allowing her to be the hunter and leader her heritage calls her to be, but demanding that she live up to it.

“I’ll need to take the time to read this through, and then we’ll have to figure out what fits and what needs to be adjusted,” she says.

Derek nods. “I think we should have allowances for the punishment of those who break the code on either side, that can be divvied out without repercussion.”

“I agree.” She stands and gathers up the binder with her purse. Derek tosses their cups in the garbage, gets the door as they exit. She admires the way he can be a gentleman without treating her as incapable. “Could you meet me here in a few days to discuss what happens next?”

“Sure.” Derek turns to leave. “Allison.”

“Derek.”

She watches as he drives away and thinks this feels like a beginning.

~

“I’m not handing over punishment of code-breaking hunters to werewolves,” snaps Allison in a low voice. This is the sixth meeting in as many weeks with Derek and it’s the singular point that neither of them can agree on.

She watches Derek turn his hands into fists as he bites back a snarl. He does that a lot when he’s nervous or angry or stressed. Allison’s fairly certain he lets his claws come out, and allows the pain to tether him to his surroundings. While they only meet twice a week, she’s at the coffee shop more often than not, usually at their back table, while Derek reads in a chair near the window. She rarely speaks to him outside of their meetings, but she knows he watches her walk to her car when she leaves.  
Allison’s not entirely sure how she feels about that.

She didn’t intend to make this a regular thing, but working at home has been a less than peaceful alternative.

Her dad still surprises her. When Derek showed up after their second meeting with his notes for her, and his ideas for clarifying elements of the treaty, Chris backed off and gave them their meeting. He made no comments to Allison, but he thanked Derek for going to the right person with this, and they both took the compliment.

Scott and Isaac come by the house a lot. Scott insists she doesn’t need to stay involved in this, that she should stay safe. Isaac likes to blame Derek for things Allison knows are the fault of others.

It frustrates her that she wants to so easily jump to Derek’s defense, so this has become her retreat. That Derek’s presence is soothing isn’t a thought she dwells on just yet.

“Hunters don’t adequately punish their own kind,” says Derek finally, startling Allison out of her reverie.

“And werewolves do?”

“Better than hunters.”

“Yet the alpha pack kept killing, taking what they wanted,” returns Allison.

“The alpha pack was nearly impossible to beat. I’m talking about individual crimes. Explain to me why Kate could murder my entire family and face no punishment for her crimes, yet my uncle is burned into a psychotic monster and his actions meant that no werewolf in Beacon Hills was safe from your family, innocent or not.”

The words are bitter and harsh and devastatingly true. Allison knows that had Peter been killed before Kate, that at best Kate would have been put in jail as per the Sheriff’s investigation. But getting the charges to stick after so many years would have been a difficult task. Derek’s right, and Allison hates her family for making it so.

She steadies her breathing before replying, in and out, in and out, not noticing Derek’s matching her rhythm. “You’re right,” she offers after a few minutes. “It is a problem. But Derek, if we leave this to the wronged party, we’ll end up with a world of Peters, Gerards, and Kates all over again. Not to mention the surge of both werewolves and hunters that will descend on Beacon Hills. We aren’t enough to defend this town on our own.”

“We aren’t alone,” replies Derek. The response catches Allison off guard.

“No. No, I suppose we aren’t.” She sighs. “Maybe we need a fresh pair of eyes to help us see what we’re missing.”

Derek looks resigned and oh so weary. “Ask whoever you want. I don’t think you’ll find someone to take my side anyway. Might as well prove it.”

Allison’s hand reaches out towards him, offering comfort she supposes, but she pulls it back in confusion, not sure where that feeling came from.

~

Allison ends up going to Stiles, knowing he’ll be fair to both sides.

It’s a perfect choice, as Stiles brings them both to common ground. Any werewolf or hunter crimes committed on Beacon Hills territory will be judged by the three of them, as the hunter, alpha, and emissary of Beacon Hills.

Each kind will dole out the assigned punishment, under the supervision of a representative of the wronged party.

In this manner, they can treat those who break the treaty fairly, but without undue mercy or cruelty.

They sign the treaty on a Wednesday afternoon, with Stiles and Deaton there to witness.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Her senior year starts the following Monday, and while Allison’s age has always made her feel slightly out of place among her peers, it’s never been quite as strong as it is this year.

Her consolation is that the others in her circles seem just as out of place. Ethan and Aiden are in school too, forced to keep up the appearance of teenagers while they stay in town. They live on the outskirts and Allison knows Lydia and Danny spend a good deal of time there.

Scott and Isaac stopped dancing back and forth with each other. She accidentally walks in on them making out three times the first day of school. The problem is that their situation is awkward at best, but made worse by the boys who feel they have to constantly apologize.

Allison’s at a loss as to how she convinces them that she’s happier without them, barring blatant cruelty.

She spent the weekend shopping for fall clothes with Lydia, happy to have time with her best friend.

Cora and Stiles hover at her peripheral, talking to everyone, but decidedly separate from declaring any clear loyalties. Allison hasn’t decided how she feels about that yet.

In the end, it doesn’t surprise her nearly as much as it probably should that she ends up at Starbucks on Wednesday as soon as school’s out. The surprising part is that Derek is already sitting at their table, a book and notepad in front of them. Allison hesitates at the counter. Her drink was ordered to stay, but she could sit somewhere else.

Derek looks up, gives her half a smile, and she thinks just a quick hello.

“Miss me?” he jokes when she walks over, still with that bitter undertone he never really loses.

Allison says “no”, thinks oh god yes, and focuses on her drink instead of Derek’s confusion over her lie. When she felt peaceful around Derek, she has no idea. “What are you reading?” she asks, rather than dwell on that line of thinking.

“Cora’s birthday is this weekend,” offers Derek. “I thought I could bake her a cake as a surprise, since she hasn’t really had a birthday in a long time.”

Allison peers over at the book with renewed interest. It’s an Argent tradition to be skilled with dessert, for whatever reason, and she’s no exception. “Do you know what kind you’re making?”

Derek sighs with frustration. “She likes chocolate, with raspberry filling, and I want to make a really good cake, but all the recipes I can find are complicated.”

“And you don’t want to just buy a nice cake?”

“No. Cora deserves something special.”

Allison tries to think. A mix would have her mother rolling in her grave and that’s the easiest way she can think of. “I could help,” she offers, before her mind catches up to her mouth.

Derek looks at her like he knows she didn’t mean to say that. “Are you sure?”

Allison nods decisively. “Yeah. I mean, if you want my help.”

“Thank you.” Derek doesn’t smile, but the bitterness isn’t there, and Allison hides her smile in her drink, feeling at peace again.

~

She borrows Stiles’ kitchen to teach Derek how to make a cake on Friday. Stiles wants to take Cora out, both to celebrate and for what he calls a real date, the kind where you woo someone. Allison knows what those are like, used to love them if she’s being honest, though that girl sometimes seems a lifetime ago. Apparently when Cora heard about Stiles’ plans, she informed Derek that he wasn’t allowed back to the apartment until late and that she didn’t want to hear any commentary.

Allison suspects this is why Derek is scowling at the door. “Are you coming in?” she asks, already leaving him behind.

“This is weird,” says Derek, though he follows her inside.

“Because Stiles isn’t here?” Allison tosses the words over her shoulder on her way back to the kitchen, where she has all the necessary ingredients and tools lined up. She knows it looks like a weapons lineup, all neatly catalogued, but it’s what she knows.

“Because I am,” answers Derek.

Allison shrugs. “If it makes you feel better, this is the first time I’ve been here at all.”

“That does help a little.”

Allison grins cheekily, a grin that turns into a softer, more genuine smile when Derek laughs a little. She doesn’t think she’s heard him laugh like that before, not open and free, and it warms her soul ever so slightly. To cover, she starts instructing. “So, we’re going to cheat a little bit and use raspberry jam for the filling, but I have a recipe for a truly delicious chocolate cake, one I’m sure Cora will love.”

“And you’re sure I can’t mess it up?”

“I tried to make it Hale-proof,” returns Allison and giggles at the look on Derek’s face.

As she teaches Derek about baking, things like how measurements are more important, whereas cooking you can often make it up as you go along or not be exact, or why baking soda is better for some recipes and baking powder for others, Allison considers how relaxed she feels.

Part of it she surmises, is probably the location. Stiles had asked John to be out of the house and Allison suspects he did that for Derek’s sake more than hers. He long since apologized for getting Derek arrested, but there’s no need to put Derek on edge. Their treaty and territory meetings at Starbucks are quite calm these days, with no really big fights, but there’s still pressure there. Starbucks is where they deal with problems, not a retreat. Even more confusing--at least for her--is the way she almost feels safe there.

No, not safe. Secure. She’s not afraid around Derek, but she’s not powerless around him either. The words she said to Kate constantly roll around in her mind and she’s not sure what to do with the fact that peace with Derek Hale gives her the one thing she’s been fighting for, the one thing she thought she had to fight him for.

Derek flicks cocoa powder at her, startling from her reverie, saying “How’s the moon, cadet?”

Allison blinks bewilderedly at him. “Huh?”

“Space cadet? Because you seemed kind of out of it,” he explains. He’s quiet for a second.

Allison waits.

“I used to call Laura that all the time,” says Derek. He starts using a spatula to unnecessarily smooth the cake batter. Allison stops him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Time to move onto the next step.” It’s so cliche, she knows, but sometimes the cliches hold the most wisdom.

Derek seems to agree, because he moves to open the oven door, and soon she’s back to the next part of their recipe.

~

The cake is a success.

Cora’s birthday is mostly a success.

Her party is a rousing failure.

Well, if she’s being honest, Cora seemed to enjoy herself. Stiles had invited everyone to the bowling alley--minus Aiden and Ethan--and most were getting along.

Isaac is still quiet around Derek and he and Scott still tiptoe around her. She tried to push them together as partners as much as possible. Cora gushes over the cake and the work Derek and Allison put in and it makes Scott look accusingly towards Derek far more often than Allison cares for.

Not that she knows what to do with that either.

And Lydia is withdrawn, without even a comment on Stiles’ horrific bowling uniform.

The whole night makes Allison feel itchy and tight and uncomfortable and she’s definitely not ready to deal with the way Derek walking her to her car makes her feel.

~

A few weeks go by. She still isn’t sure what her feelings are, but she stops trying to analyze them.

“I don’t want to go to homecoming,” she says as she sits with her usual drink and places a second macchiato in front of Derek.

“Did I ask you?” he replies, looking confused. It’s mildly adorable.

“No. But everyone else is all paired up and Scott and Isaac need to just date without always involving me and it doesn’t sound fun at all.” She might be pouting.

“So don’t go,” says Derek, as though it’s just that easy. She says as much.

“You can hang out with me,” he offers. “We can make cookies or something.”

The idea sounds so utterly absurd that Allison says yes in a heartbeat. The rest of the evening revolve around territory issues--Scott isn’t fighting Derek as alpha anymore, but he wants most of his independence, and it creates some stress on the ley lines.

“It’s late,” yawns Allison, stretching after a sip of disgustingly cold coffee. “I should get going.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Derek stands and throws away both their cups before gathering his laptop.

“I don’t need…”

“...me to walk you to your car, I know,” finishes Derek, rather uncannily. “So Cora likes to remind me. Indulge me anyway?” There’s nothing like a command in his words, so Allison nods and gathers up her own things.

She’s only a block away, so the walk isn’t long at all, and then for a moment, Allison feels like she’s been thrown into a romantic comedy.

A car speeds around the corner--not a real danger, just idiot teenagers--and causes Derek to push Allison up against the car, shielding her with his own body, and then they’re staring at each other, unsure of what to do next.

Derek moves first, pushing away, only for Allison to catch his arms in her hands. “Stay.”

“I don’t know what you want,” he says, sounding the tiniest bit broken.

“I want,” she tries. “I want...I want to be allowed to want. To feel and crave and need and not to always worry about whether or not this is the best idea.”

“I’m never the best idea,” he answers and Allison can’t have that, she can’t. Because Derek Hale is a lot of things but he is the guy who understands how scared she is of being used again, how much she hates being manipulated, and at the same time hates that she has to be a leader. He’s the one who starts food fights and looks at her like she could conquer the world and maybe, just maybe, this is the best choice she’ll make in a very long time.

She kisses him softly, not wanting to force anything, but tries to convey her emotions in the kiss, and after the longest moment possible, he kisses her back. Derek leans like he knows she can support both of them, and the thought is heady, almost as much as the way his beard scrapes against her cheek as he kisses along her neck before retreating back to her lips.

Allison sighs contentedly against Derek, and they kiss, soft and lingering, until the cool fall air becomes too cold for her to stand and they part ways.

She falls asleep later that night with a smile on her lips at the memory, and a determination not to let fear of the unknown keep her from pursuing this.


	3. Chapter 3

Allison spends homecoming as half a cliche,  making out with Derek in his car while the others take pictures and drink spiked punch. She found she definitely didn't want to go to the dance, partly from feeling like she'd already moved on from high school, partly because that wasn't a topic she knew how to broach.

There are only a handful of topics that she feels secure in around Derek -- cooking, protecting Beacon Hills,  and gossiping about Stiles and Cora.

Oh she's comfortable around Derek now. Trusts him even. But she's not sure they've moved off the ice and on to solid ground yet.

In fact, it won't be until Christmas that Allison realizes that Derek is opening up faster, naturally,  as though it just makes sense that he would share his heart with her.

She confesses her true feelings on Christmas Eve, when far too many members of the pack are visiting their cemetery dwelling family members.

The final semester of her senior year is an odd one. Allison turns nineteen and more than anything this adds to her feeling of estrangement from high school. The comfort is that the rest of the pack feels the same way. The downside is that none of them are very close.

She sees Stiles and Cora the most, but Cora is catching up on the schooling she missed and she and Derek still have to work to bond and become family again. Stiles stays busy with Cora and his emissary duties and being a sort of liason between Scott and Isaac and Lydia and the others.

There are no pack wars or fights or anything but the camaraderie she sometimes wishes for is nonexistent as well. They all seem to want different things and common ground is difficult to find.

So Allison takes the few classes she has left and she focuses on restoring the Argent name and she sees Derek most chances she gets.

~

Sex is a funny thing, muses Allison, after one of their more recently successful attempts. She lies in bed as Derek runs the tips of his fingers through the come on her stomach. She likes when he does it, she doesn’t so much are for the staying in bed until it dries. But they’ve learned to make compromises and find things that work for them.

The first few months of trying to have sex were a nightmare really. She likes to be in control but likes feeling safe. Derek has no issues with her taking the lead but sometimes when she does her movements trigger a memory of Kate.

Little by little they worked through things. Car sex is off limits as it nearly always triggers Derek. Allison likes being under Derek so long as she feels like she can throw him off if need be. She’s never felt the need to, usually pulls him in closer, but it gives her the feeling of control and that in itself is what helps her give up control later.

If she rides him, it’s always slow and lingering, leaning over his chest so her face is buried in Derek’s neck.

They’ve learned that they love using their hands on each other the most and that they can feel completely sated that way.

This staying in bed even though she feels gross is one of the compromises. She’s not uncomfortable with the concept, it just is your basic dried come is gross feeling. Derek needing these moments however is less about any sort of scent marking, and more the way too many of his past sexual partners had a wham, bam, thank you sir approach. The idea of someone staying in bed with him, not disappearing to shower and take off is new, and while the thought broke Allison’s heart the first time Derek shared that with her, she knows that these moments are what bring them closer.

Derek’s fingers still and Allison reaches down to clasp her hand in his. “Shower?” she asks when she’s sure he’s done. Usually he either asks for a few more minutes or nods and lets her go while he makes tea.

Like she says, Allison feels old before her time.

“Do you want company?” asks Derek this time, in a low, unsure voice.

Allison turns every so slightly towards him. “Really?”

“If you want,” hesitates Derek.

“I want,” she says, cutting off whatever deprecating thought might follow. “I definitely want.”

The shower that follows is perhaps the most intimate period they’ve shared. There’s no frantic lust or need to get off again. He scrubs her back and she kneels to make him lift his feet that get so dirty the way he pads around barefoot in the loft.

As Allison crawls back into bed when they’re done, she realizes this may be the first time she could see forever in this relationship. It’s never been casual, but this, this comfort...it means something and Allison doesn’t want to let that go.

“Thank you,” breathes Derek into her shoulder from where he’s curled up behind her.

“For what?”

“Waiting.” He kisses her shoulder, then brushes her hair back and kisses her neck.

Allison twists her head around for another kiss. “You’ve been worth it,” she replies.

~

She graduates high school a week later, and says goodbye to most of her friends.

Cora and Stiles are traveling for the summer, then they’ll return to Beacon Hills community college. Stiles wants more emissary training and to instill protective wards with Derek around the territory, so he’s chosen the first two years at home.

Scott and Isaac go to University of Washington for the medical program, and they don’t come home as often as they intended.

The others scatter here and there.

Derek asks twice if she’s sure about not going to college and her dad asks three times as often, but Allison’s sure. What she wants to accomplish doesn’t require a degree.

She’s happy where she is.

~

If she was attending college, she’d be a sophomore during the two and only two times Lydia is invited to their Starbucks meetings.

Allison talks to Lydia occasionally. Rarely on Skype, but they’ll go for pedicures when Lydia comes home from Stanford for a weekend. Lydia remains close to Stiles, but the constant stress of Beacon Hills frayed at her nerves, and strained their friendship again, this time more than could really be fixed.

Lydia, Aiden, Ethan, and Danny have a house near campus. Allison’s pretty sure Lydia and Aiden aren’t together, just warm bodies when the need arises.

She doesn’t understand it, but then Lydia and Danny never really knew Erica or Boyd and she thinks the rest of them aren’t seen in a much better light than the two alphas.

Lydia looks the same as always at the first meeting. Her clothes are tailored and classic, only a few accessories adding a touch of whimsy. She’s polished, poised, and her eyes have that familiar haunted look that they get when she returns to Beacon Hills.

“What’s this about?” Her voice is on the polite edge of snappish, as she looks between Allison and Derek.

“Stiles passed on some information about an...” Allison is careful to phrase things delicately. The blowback could reach further than Beacon Hills if she doesn’t. “Extracurricular activity you’ve been working on. He was under the impression that we should be aware.”

Lydia looks furious. Her green tea latte--nonfat, 1 pump classic syrup--is called out and Lydia steps away to get it. She sits back down with her poise slightly shaken. “I won’t change my mind.”

Derek takes a deep breath. Allison warned him that he would have to start this discussion, he has more right to the decision than she does. “That particular problem has increased over the last year. I...I can’t do anything about it.” The admission isn’t easy for him.

Allison squeezes his hand and looks to Lydia. “And I won’t do anything. I’m not in a position to be beneficial in this case.”

Lydia’s gaze is steady, awareness sinking in. “Will you stop me?”

Derek shakes his head and Allison answers for them. “No.”

~

Lydia requests a meeting four months later. She doesn’t place an order.

“Peter’s dead,” she says with no preamble.

Derek takes a deep breath, clings a little too tightly to Allison’s hand.

“He won’t be coming back,” adds Lydia. Her words aren’t unkind, but she shows no remorse either. Allison didn’t expect any. Peter only deserved that from a few people.

Derek shoves away from the table, spilling drinks and hurrying out of the store. Allison gives Lydia a brief hug. “Thank you for doing what we couldn’t.”

“Goodbye Allison,” whispers Lydia, the first catch in her voice. This goodbye is different from the others.

“Goodbye Lydia,” answers Allison in return.

Eleven years will pass before they see each other again.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m going to need you to repeat that,” says Allison, as she steps back from where she’s cleaning her bow.

“I think I want to rebuild the house,” repeats Derek.

“Are you sure?”

“Do you think I shouldn’t?”

“Not at all. You’ve just shied away from any discussion on that topic every time Cora ever brought it up. You know that’s why she went with Stiles to England when he got into grad school.” She steps over to Derek and places her hands in his, assuring him that she’s not trying to argue. “Darling, you have my full support if this is something you’re ready for. I just don’t want the emotions to be too much.”

Derek grips her hands tightly. “I’m not saying it will be easy or that I won’t need the occasional break from the process. But I want this. And I want us to have a home.”

“Okay,” agrees Allison, her voice breaking a little in happiness. “Okay.”

They spend the rest of the winter planning out how the house will look. Derek wants something small, big enough to have a few extra rooms, but nothing so big as to house an entire pack. Neither of them say anything about the way they don’t really have a pack to house anyway. He makes plans for a garden area and a shop for her weapons, so she can work on them with him or at her father’s. She insists on two ovens in the kitchen and Derek wants windows everywhere with cushy window seats for them to curl up in on lazy sunny afternoons or stormy nights.

When everything is finished--Derek did the last few decorating bits on his own and begged Allison to let him surprise her--they drive over together.

The house looks comforting, with the large front porch and big bay windows. It reminds her of the second house she lived in as a child, the home she now knows was from a time when her parents were retired from hunting. Over the doorway is a large iron triskelion, as expected for the Hale pack legacy, but etched into the center is her family crest and Allison can’t help the gasp that escapes her. “Derek!”

“Is it okay?” he asks, though his eyes smile.

“It’s wonderful,” she beams, pressing up on her toes to kiss him before dashing up the steps to reach up and touch a hand to the piece. She’s so amazed and touched that Derek would do this, declare to the world the Hale/Argent bond, that she doesn’t notice him coming up behind her until his arms are around her waist.

“I thought the world deserved to know we’re a team,” he says in her ear. “And I was hoping you’d do me the honor of making it permanent,” he finishes, opening his hands to reveal a diamond ring in his palm.

Allison spends a great deal of time kissing him and christening each room of the house together in between repeated yeses.

~

They end up having a small wedding in a little grove on the other side of the Preserve. Stiles and Cora come home for a few days to help them celebrate, but Scott and Isaac are both serving with Doctors without Borders and can’t manage to work it in. Allison would have loved to have them but she thinks it does minimize any chance of awkward tension.

Stiles bitches about not being able to go to both bachelor and bachelorette parties until Derek sighs with exasperation and suggests they all just go to Jungle and then he’ll pay for a spa day before the rehearsal dinner to recover.

Allison just laughs at them both and talks her dad out of recreating the six tiered wedding cake he found in a bridal magazine.

It takes Melissa, Cora, and herself to stop him when Sheriff Stilinski starts suggesting that Chris could make it work with the right welding tools.

Cora pulls her aside at one point, says she knows Allison thought Lydia would be the one standing next to her, but that she’s really glad Allison and Derek make each other happy, and she’s thrilled to have a sister again. Allison hugs her tightly.

There’s a moment before the ceremony, just as she’s about to step out from behind the makeshift curtain dressing room, when the memories of her mother hit her hard and Allison both wishes she could be here and knows that if she was, none of this would be happening. Melissa peeks her head in and passes Allison a handkerchief, saying softly, “the best parts of your mother loved you fiercely and I know you’d be so happy for you right now.”

Allison blinks back the tears and stands tall again.

Her tears come anew--though they’re happy ones this time--the minute she sees Derek at the end of the aisle. His smile is wide and bright, lighting up his face, and he sort of wiggles in place a little like he can’t hide the giddiness. Stiles grins from his place as best man and stage whispers “can’t blame you, man. You got picked by one of the good ones.”

Derek’s answering grin just gets brighter and Allison’s pretty sure her own smile could inspire a new Disney movie.

~

The last time they face down invading hunters is three years into their marriage, when she’s 27.

This particular group is rumored to be more bloodthirsty, Kate-style hunters rather than like herself or Chris.

Allison takes the reins of the discussion, first explaining that the Argents now hold a treaty with the Hale pack and that it is to be honored by visiting hunters. She adds that out of respect, she cannot house the hunters, but makes sure to give directions to a hotel that gives them better rates for visiting guests.

Then it becomes less of an explanation and a harsh directive for the hunters to remove themselves from the territory immediately, as they begin suggesting that her judgment has been compromised.

When one of the younger hunters makes a slur at Derek, Allison puts a crossbow bolt in his knee.

“That is my husband and alpha you are talking about,” she states in a cold voice. “You will show both of us some respect.”

There are a few other choice insults from the hunters, mostly the tired old things about her being used for breeding or having some sort of bestiality fetish, like she hasn’t heard that before. While she deals with these idiots, she takes a moment to whisper for Derek to call backup. A few minutes and three more crossbow bolts later, the Sheriff and his in the know deputies arrive and arrest the hunters on outstanding warrants in other states. They’re taken away to be incarcerated and shipped to the appropriate courts of justice the following day.

Allison can’t resist a snarky little wave as they drive off.

As she turns to Derek to make sure he’s okay, she feels something sort of click into place in her heart, like her declaring him to be her husband and alpha, even as she was the leader, was the last thing they needed in their relationship. The last little bit that insured this was a forever thing.

~

Stiles shows up at their door on a Wednesday evening, a month after he finished his doctorate at the University of Warsaw, after receiving his Master’s in England. He’s holding Cora’s hand and they both look more settled and content than she’s ever known them to be.

“Are you home?” asks Derek and Cora nods.

“We were hoping we could build on the other side of the lot,” says Stiles.

Allison smiles at the way Derek’s face brightens at the idea of having his family back, and she adds more raviolis to the pot and tears open another Caesar salad kit. She has her mother’s skill at baking--no one does aggression through dessert like an Argent, as Derek has learned on nights when he sleeps on the couch--but she can only be expected to do so much from scratch.

She wonders if Stiles still cooks, and if he’d be overly suspicious of her instating family dinners on a bi-weekly basis.

She had no plans for dessert, but there are fresh blackberries in the garden and she can whip up some sweet biscuits and cream in no time.

Dinner is livelier than it’s been in weeks. Derek can’t stop talking to Cora about possible plans for a house and she tells Stiles about some new research she came across on goblins last month. She’s never understood pack the way Stiles does, but she knows family, and this is hers.

~

The goblins she mention become a problem just after Cora and Stiles’ house is finished.

They also are what bring Scott & Isaac back, who come to help and realize they want to stay. Another cottage gets built on the property and Cora announces she’s pregnant, much to everyone’s delight.

Stiles alternates between buying every baby-related thing he finds and freaking out at Ally and his dad about not being able to handle this.

Allison’s amused but grateful when Derek finally sits Stiles down and tells him to get a grip. That if he in anyway thought Stiles would be a shitty father or husband, he never would have let him near Cora, and that the way Stiles loves his friends, family, and pack, prove that he will be the best sort of dad.

Scott takes on the rest of the issue by staging an intervention, returning half the toys, and canceling the artist scheduled to paint a mural on the nursery walls.

Cora’s the calmest Allison has ever seen her. Having a family again suits Cora.

~

She’s the exact opposite three years later, when she craves all the things and complains bitterly about stupid California summers.

Derek, predictably, reacts exactly the same way Stiles did.

Allison laughs when Scott brings out the intervention poster from before, saying he suspected it would be needed again.

~

Lydia comes home when Allison sends her an invitation to her baby shower. She says Ally & Derek can’t be trusted to decorate a nursery on their own.

But Allison knows that Lydia just needed time, time to sort through not only the mask she hid behind in high school, but all of Peter’s trauma as well. And though Peter had slipped back into insanity in the end, thus necessitating his second demise, she knows it was difficult for Lydia, and she’d never wanted to push.

They’d kept up online with the occasional picture and casual enough status updates to maintain a semblance of friendship.

Unlike the other pack members, who had visited from time to time while sorting out their own issues, Allison always knew that when Lydia came back, it would be for good.

She brings Jackson with her, much to Ally’s surprise though, and everyone else’s as well. The story is told over a pack dinner--the welcome back one for their last two wayward souls--and Allison squeezes Lydia’s hand tight as she tells it, offering what comfort she can.

Aiden died in a fight with a rival wolf pack several years ago, though Lydia notes that she and Aiden had split amicably sometime before. Ethan and Danny were adopted into an east coast pack and have no intention of ever returning to Beacon Hills.

Lydia says she realized she wanted to come home when she and Jackson met up a few months ago to discuss turning their long distance relationship into a same-city one. They both missed the feelings of pack and had accomplished what they wanted to professionally. Lydia agreed to a professor position at Beacon Hills University, contingent upon private research space. Jackson is opening a law practice with the intent to run for DA and then become a judge, to help the pack in the future. They declare a formal allegiance to Derek’s pack, show up for meetings and pack dinners, though it takes until Ally and Derek’s twins are born for Lydia and Jackson to feel like family and true pack, not just members in name.

~

Tali & Tori are the most adorable twins ever to be born.

Allison coos over them and kisses their soft little cheeks and promises to teach them to be noble warriors.

Derek rocks Tori in one arm and cradles Tali against his chest and sings them to sleep.

They’ll tell the girls all the best stories of their namesakes while they’re young and save the others for a necessary time

Both girls are werewolves, a fact that makes Allison smile a little, because Stiles and Cora’s toddler--Boyd--was born fully human, and she likes that both her babies take after their dad.

“They’re beautiful,” whispers Derek, as Tori snuffles against his side. He leans carefully over and kisses her cheek. “Just like you.”

~

Allison presses the button on her little milk frother and waits for the liquid to heat up. As she does, she stares out the window, watching the pack play in the yard.

They’re celebrating the Sheriff’s retirement party today and everyone is there to visit. John, Melissa, and her Dad sit talking together at a picnic table, drinking beers, and laughing at what Stiles calls dad jokes.

Stiles and Cora’s Boyd is 11 now, while his younger sister Emma, is six. Tali & Tori turn eight in a few months, and sometimes Allison can’t believe how fast they’re growing up.

Scott and Isaac were approved as foster parents a couple years ago and she suspects that two particularly recent arrivals will be adopted soon, while Jackson and Lydia dote on all of the kids. They’re both saving the announcement for the next pack dinner, but Allison and Cora are both expecting again, though from their last talk, this will be the last kid for both of them.

Allison stretches at the thought--she’s not as young as she once was at 38--and then laughs at herself for calling that old.

When the milk is done, Ally finishes making two drinks, then carries them with her outside. She finds Derek still waiting for her on the porch bench. His hair has a little gray in it now, a distinguished sort of salt and pepper look, and she finds it deliciously attractive. Allison leans down and kisses him, lingering a few seconds longer than necessary. Derek holds the coffee while she sits next to him, slipping off her shoes to tuck her feet under his legs as she curls up.

“Macchiato?” he asks, sipping at one of the mugs.

“I know it’s the Sheriff’s party,” she replies, “But twenty years ago today we signed the treaty. I thought we deserved our own little memory.”

Derek nearly spills his coffee, he leans in so fast to kiss her, and Allison giggles against his lips in the girlish way she’s never quite lost.

“Best decision I ever made as alpha,” he says against her lips.

She kisses him once more, then turns a little in her seat, resting her head on his shoulder as they watch the pack play and visit in the yard. “We did good,” she remarks quietly and means it with all her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of it! I had so much fun writing this story, even if it did take me longer than I initially thought. I just have such a heart for this particular ship and I wanted to write a fic that was a bit fluffier than most Derek/Allison fics tend to be.   
> Thank you to those of you who commented or left kudos. I know rarepair fics don't get as much attention, so I truly value the messages. If you ever want to request a drabble from this particular verse, or have questions about the story, feel free to hit me up on tumblr. I'm onlymystories on there.


End file.
